A puppet story

Marionettes on the stage of life

Plastic smiles and painted lips

Held together by strings of hope

Connected at the fingertips

The one in white is all alone

Laughing at painted stars

The one in red is angry now

As he counts the long lost hours

The purple monster screams in haste

To scare his counterparts

The yellow headed geek just smiles

As cupid shoots his darts

Our story traces the little pink thing

The puppet in the cage

And the little black soldier with the crystal gun

Who never seems to age

Pink

She prances about in her sheltered world

Rarely venturing out

The strings that hold her have firm rules

Which she never must flout

Safe and pleasant she bides her time

Coz safe is what she's been

Never dares to explore

And see what she's never seen

An occassional night time tryst

As the sky of cloth does dark

Somewhere beside the sea of paper

Watch the ships of wood embark

Glow in yellow candlelight

In this old fashioned set

A smile always on her tiny lips

Whatever she may have felt

Tarrying along in the make believe world

Waiting for a fairy tale

Hiding from the claws of time

Lest her dreams may fail

The Black soldier

He's a rebel yet a conformist

Tugging at the strings of hope

Carrying around an infectious smile

As he sings along the road

Once he had a zillion dreams

All lost in the hallways of the years

At war with himself and with others

Whoever brings back his fears

Holding close his crystal gun

Though seldom he might shoot

Out to protect his molten core

When he passes a dangerous route

Shooting rays of crystal hope

From his little gun

Teaching love and how to feel

Drinking up the fun

Pink and Black

Our soldier once on journeys wide

Meets the doll of pink

Shows her life beyond the cage

Makes her stop and think

In lines of pretty poetry

Drowns her inhibitions, all

And ties her with his strings of love

Lest that she may fall

Holds her close through sun and rain

In the plastic stage

Wipes her tears and makes her laugh

And calms her putrid rage

At the world that holds her there

Away from her real self

From her thousand worries far and wide

That she formulates herself

End

The war now looms at large

And soldier's out to fight

The duties of the plastic world

Have finally come to light

A hundred streams he must cross

A thousand demons face

A million thoughts he must defeat

If he wants to be in the race

The rose tinted little girl is now

Melancholy and blue

Left back to face the empty cage

To dream those dreams alone

The fictional palace is now long gone

The cage merely a prison is

Assurances fall on vacant ears

As her mind succumbs to disease

The war out there will never end

The soldier never return

The subtle words from the hollow years

Can never cure the burn

She still ventures out on her own at night

Daring herself to face

Divine wrath from heaven above

Or perhaps the devil's grace

And tomorrow she knows is simply lies

In this plastic world

So she puts up her plastic smiles

And ventures out to learn

She calls at him one last time

Before she starts to flee

From the world broken by time

And be what she wants to be

The soldier sways to the tunes of the world

All has now been changed

She must move on

Coz everything has been rearranged

Blog Revamp!

There's a change in the air. Seasons are changing, time is, people are..

So why shouldn't my blog.

Transitions and transitions

Phases and phases.

Colors of the Universe

Splashed out here on these pages

Full of thoughts and shattered dreams

But appearance is what matters

If the pages are bright, each negative must have a positive connotation

What irony! What optimism

Read on!

Diffused thoughts

"Where am I, where have I reached", she screams

"In distorting dreams of pain,

In depths of pleasured agony,

Where all goodness lies slain."

Is Goodness what it really is,

In this realm of the unreal.

Is she a disciple to the devil,

And did he teach her to feel?

Her mind's a treasure trove of all

That claims to be experience,

Her heart melts at every step

As she weeps for deliverance

Through torrential rains of trouble

She has made it up this far

Buried conscience somewhere along the way

At some unearthly hour

She smiles at everything she learns

Coz knowledge's all she's got

And answers the inner rebel's call

To escape from loneliness' draught

And as she finds her step in the dark,

In this nightmare of old

She holds together her damaged pride

By threads of weathered stone

A ringing laugh in the ghostly chasm

As she falls effortlessly through

"I will rise from the ashes below

And against all, emerge anew"

Transformation

Extricating the droplets of pride, from the ocean of self immolation, into a fire of eternal passion, to find another world away from mine

Hiding from a destiny that never was, in a shelter that never is, nestled in a hope that shouldn't be, to an end I could never accept

Dissolving in feelings that I can't define, absorbing a numbness I can't believe, lost in a dilemma that i don't like, yet captivated by reality

A conquest that is barely a win, an ally the devil within, lost in an immoral whim, that maybe my only reason to smile

Conjectures of yesterday, where minds and souls and bodies play, the memories of a different today, a connect against the tide

The end the beginning must be, the satyrs of bygones must rest unknowingly, and we be bound despite the anomaly, that we will never be one.

Seasonal contemplations

[ The first rain is superbly inspiring. A by-product of the same]

Drops of rain,

Chilling to the core

A swift breeze dousing you in a fragrance

Shivers and sighs,

Clinging fabrics

An explosion of green greeting the eyes

Puddles and splashes

Children’s laughter brightening the streets

Thrilling thunderstorms

And then the lightening, lighting up dark corners,

That tiny fear of revelation

Then the ringing laugh of security

Waterfalls down the hillsides

A million birds chirping at a moment’s respite

Grumbles and groans

At the tiniest indication of the mundane

Spicy scents from every neighborhood shop

Tantalizing the senses further

Unexplained hunger

Satiated by little, by few

Prospects of expeditions

Of adventure

And then of returning home

To a warm bath

Deep philosophical contemplations

Over liquid pleasures

Emotions unveiled through cryptic words.

Invitations to interact

Or implications of solitude

Smiles tears groans moans

Together with the world, or completely alone

“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.”

--- Jim Morrison

Simply love this quote

On death

“I wouldn't mind dying in a plane crash. It'd be a good way to go. I don't want to die in my sleep, or of old age, or OD...I want to feel what it's like. I want to taste it, hear it, smell it. Death is only going to happen to you once; I don't want to miss it.”
--- Jim Morrison

The doors genius ironically died of an OD. Life laughs at us sometimes. A friend introduced me to this quote and it got me thinking. How would I want to die?
I don’t know. But I don’t think I want to hear it. Coz all I’ll hear is people calling me back. I don’t want to taste it, coz there’ll be a bitterness of things not accomplished, not done, not experienced in a lifetime. And I definitely don’t want to smell the nauseating fear attached with it.
I would rather die in my sleep.
Jim also said,

“People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend.”

I don’t fear death. I guess I fear pain though, my own and others’. I want to be gone in a flash. Before anyone has time to grieve, to realize, to prepare. Just evaporate if possible. Just disappear.
When it comes though, I don’t want to be ready. Coz I’ll never be brave enough to die. It should sneak in from the back and whisk me away to the other land…..